Famous Reviews eBook

PREFACE

Although regular literary organs, and the critical
columns of the press, are both of comparatively recent
origin, we find that almost from the beginning our
journalists aspired to be critics as well as newsmongers.
Under Charles ii, Sir Roger L’Estrange issued
his Observator (1681), which was a weekly review,
not a chronicle; and John Dunton’s The Athenian
Mercury (1690), is best described as a sort of
early “Notes and Queries.” Here,
as elsewhere, Defoe developed this branch of journalism,
particularly in his Review (1704), and in Mist’s
Journal (1714). And, again, as in all other
departments, his methods were not materially improved
upon until Leigh Hunt, and his brother John, started
The Examiner in 1808, soon after the rise of
the Reviews. Addison and Steele, of course, had
treated literary topics in The Spectator or
The Tatler; but the serious discussion of contemporary
writers began with the Whig Edinburgh of 1802
and the Tory Quarterly of 1809.

By the end of George III’s reign every daily
paper had its column of book-notices; while 1817 marks
an epoch in the weekly press; when William Jerdan
started The Observator (parent of our Athenaeum)
in order to furnish (for one shilling weekly) “a
clear and instructive picture of the moral and literary
improvement of the time, and a complete and authentic
chronological literary record for reference.”

Though probably there is no form of literature more
widely practised, and less organised, than the review,
it would be safe to say that every example stands
somewhere between a critical essay and a publisher’s
advertisement. We need not, however, consider
here the many influences which may corrupt newspaper
criticism to-day, nor concern ourselves with those
legitimate “notices of books” which only
aim at “telling the story” or otherwise
offering guidance for an “order from the library.”

The question remains, on which we do not propose to
dogmatise, whether the ideal of a reviewer should
be critical or explanatory: whether, in other
words, he should attempt final judgment or offer comment
and analysis from which we may each form our own opinion.
Probably no hard and fast line can be drawn between
the review and the essay; yet a good volume of criticism
can seldom be gleaned from periodicals. For one
thing all journalism, whether consciously or unconsciously,
must contain an appeal to the moment. The reviewer
is introducing new work to his reader, the essayist,
or critic proper, may nearly always assume some familiarity
with his subject. The one hazards prophecy; the
other discusses, and illumines, a judgment already
formed, if not established. It is obvious that
such reviews as Macaulay’s in the Edinburgh
were often permanent contributions to critical history;
while, on the other hand, many ponderous effusions
of the Quarterly are only interesting as a
sign of the times.